


Haven

by Wotsit101



Category: Kingdom (TV 2014)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 14:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12728061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wotsit101/pseuds/Wotsit101
Summary: Pre-series one-shot. Nate just wants to hang out with Jay. Alvey doesn't approve.





	Haven

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this show so much and still miss it. I just wanted to write something for it and this is what popped into my head.

At Jay’s parties, anything goes. The girls walk around topless, their tight asses hanging out of bikini bottoms two sizes too small. Nate knows this because he’s looked at their asses, their tits; looked hard, but not _grown_ hard. Instead clothing sizes is what he comes up with. Jay though, he’s not thinking, he’s all hands – stroking, squeezing – when he moves onto licking, that’s when Nate looks away. He really doesn't want to see that.

Life would be much easier if he did.

Mac’s here and Jay likes what he brings to the party just as much as he likes the girls. Mac’s older and heavier, less attractive than Jay, and nowhere near as successful with the ladies, but they make a good team – Mac brings the blow and Jay ensures his friend gets blowed in return.

The sun sets as they sit round the pool. Someone has switched on the outside lights, which Jay strung up last Christmas and never took down, and their reflection shimmers in the water.

“Shots!” Jay announces triumphantly above the thump of music. He sways from the house with shot glasses and tequila and, despite stumbling, makes it to the table and sets the tray down. “Nathaniel!” he calls, beckoning Nate over. “Time to step up, young man.”

Nate smiles and shakes his head. Holds his beer bottle up to show he is drinking, albeit at a much slower pace than everyone else. Jay takes his shot, shudders dramatically at the burn, grabs another, and then he’s making his way round the pool to where Nate is perched on the edge of a lounger.

“Little brother,” Jay says, sitting beside Nate and throwing an arm around his shoulders. The lounger creaks beneath their weight and for a second, Nate has visions of it collapsing and them sliding into the pool, but it doesn’t and Nate brings the beer up to his lips and takes a long pull.

“Why are you not partaking in this round of shots?”

“I’m sixteen,” Nate reminds his brother.

Jay nods with mock seriousness. “That is true,” he says. “Drink up.” 

As Jay gently waves the glass in front of Nate’s face, Nate can’t help but laugh. His brother is grinning and happy, despite the black eye he got this morning sparring at Navy Street while still high; a move which caused Alvey to proclaim Jay a fucking idiot and throw him out the gym. Nate takes the shot and grimaces at the taste.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The music has stopped abruptly because Alvey’s thumped the CD player. In the twilight, Alvey’s dark eyes spark, and he looks around, shaking his head at the girls, the booze, the coke…

“Jesus.” Alvey stalks around the pool until he’s standing, arms folded, before them.

“You gonna explain this to me?”

Alvey’s gaze is pinned on Jay, but Nate answers. “It’s just a party.”

“Just a party, huh?”

Jay removes his arm from around Nate’s shoulders and smiles up at their father. “Or as I prefer, a gathering of like-minded individuals.”

Alvey snorts. “Looks to me like it’s a gathering of losers getting fucked up.” He turns to Nate. “You’re done here. Get your things, let’s go.”

“Dad.” Nate takes one last swig from the beer bottle before setting it down on the concrete. He hands the shot glass back to his brother. “I’m staying here tonight. I told you that.”

“You’ve got training tomorrow, Nate.”

Nate rolls his eyes. “Fuck training.”

“Fuck training? You’ve been spending too much time with your brother. Get your things, grab your bike and put it in the back of the truck. We’re going.”

“You know, Pop, it wasn’t so long ago you forgot you even had kids. Where do you think Nate was then, huh?”

Jay’s tone is casual, but there’s an undercurrent of challenge that’ll lead nowhere good.

“Screw you, Jay.” There’s nothing relaxed about Alvey’s tone. “Nate, move your ass.”

Nate’s aware that people are looking so he gets up. He hates to do as he’s told, but knows the embarrassment will be ten times worse if Alvey drags him away. Nate’s trained as a fighter for as long as he can remember, but he’s nowhere near ready to take on an angry Alvey. Hell, even Jay, sober, would think twice. Jay, drinking, however, is another story and another good reason he and Alvey need to leave.

“Jay, it’s cool. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jay holds his gaze for a moment, and then, “I’ll see you at the gym, Nathaniel. Bright and early!” He grins and salutes Nate with the empty glass. Alvey’s frown deepens.

“See ya.” Nate returns the smile.

“It had better be bright and early.” Alvey yells over his shoulder as he heads for his truck. “You’ve got a fight in one week, Jay, and you’re fucking it all up!”

As soon as they leave, the thump of the music returns to beat the air. Alvey curses and gets into the truck while Nate swings one leg over his bike. Home is only a few blocks over, he can ride.

The truck window glides down. “Put the bike in the back, Nate.”

Nate blows out a breath and stomps round to the back of the truck. Once the bike’s in the back, he climbs into the front and slams the door because Alvey hates that.

At the first intersection they come to a stop. There’s been an accident and the road is blocked by the cops and paramedics. Nate and Alvey sit in silence, watching the traffic build up while the flashing red and blues dance across their windshield. Nate hears his father curse quietly and after a few minutes more, Alvey starts tapping the steering wheel impatiently, breaking the heavy silence in the truck.

“You pissed at me?” Alvey asks, his hands falling still.

Nate stares out of the window. There’s a mangled motorcycle in the road and some grey haired dude stood beside a car, steam still rising from its busted hood. Two cops stand over him as he wobbles along in what is supposed to be a straight line. Behind them, in the growing tailback of traffic, someone blares their horn.

Fuck Alvey. If Nate had taken the bike he’d be home by now.

“Is this about missing the party? Is that what this little sulk is about?”

“Nate. I’m talking to you, dude.”

Nate sighs noisily. “Yes, I’m pissed at you. And, no, it’s not about the party.”

Alvey snorts. “Fucking teenage hormone shit.” He lowers the window and beckons over a passing cop. “Any chance we can get out of here tonight?”

As Alvey argues, Nate shifts in his seat so he can jam a hand into his pocket. He removes a stick of gum and pops it in his mouth just as the window rises smoothly and a defeated Alvey kills the engine and leans back. “Just gotta clear the road,” Alvey mutters, mimicking the cop. “How ‘bout they move the damn motorcycle out the way. How hard is that?”

Nate chews the gum. The cops are arresting the old guy now and the ambulance is moving off, lights twinkling, siren wailing. They listen until it fades away. Nate breaks first this time.

“Were you checking up on me tonight?” he demands, though he knows it’s a stupid question. Judging by his surprised expression, Alvey knows it too because he’s not that kind of parent. Nate likes to tell himself it’s because Alvey trusts him, but there’s always that nagging feeling that Alvey just doesn’t give a shit. “I told you I was staying at Jay’s. You were ok with it. What changed?”

“Nothing, ‘til I saw you drinking beer and doing shots.”

“It was a two beers and one shot.”

“That’s three too many. You take anything?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes, I’m serious.”

Nate exhales loudly. He’d laugh if it was funny because a _just say no_ talk from Alvey has to be a fucking joke.

“Nate?”

“No, I didn’t take anything.”

“Good.” Alvey looks relieved. “And to answer your question, I wasn’t checking up on you. I wanted to check on your brother. I wanted to talk to him about the upcoming fight, try and get his head in the game after what happened this morning.” Alvey’s phone vibrates from his pocket and he gets it out, checks the message and then drops it onto his lap. “The drink and the drugs, they’re fucking his chances. He ain’t a kid anymore, he’s got rent to pay, bills…how the fuck is he going to do that if he’s drinking too much and snorting what money he does have up his goddamn nose?”

“It never stopped you,” Nate mutters.

“What the hell did you just say?”

“Nothing.”

Before Alvey can say more there’s a tap on the window and their truck is motioned forward, around the motorcycle and onward home. Nate stares out the window, the silence back, suffocating, steaming up the windows to the point where Alvey has to wipe the windshield with a rag to see. A minute more and they’re home. Alvey pulls into the driveway and Nate barely waits for the truck to stop before he’s opening the door and climbing out, breathing a lungful of fresh evening air.

He goes in the back way, into the kitchen. Alvey's left a half empty bottle of whiskey on the table with an empty glass, _fucking hypocrite,_ but apart from that their home is spotless, unlike Jay’s where there’s shit everywhere. Despite the shit, Nate feels more comfortable there.

Alvey comes in behind Nate, locks the door and flips the blinds. “I brought your bike up to the house.”

Nate nods. “Thanks.”

Alvey puts his keys on the table and picks up the bottle. He starts to pour and then pauses. He glances at Nate and holds the glass up. "You got something to say about this?"

The flavour’s almost gone from the gum, so Nate can taste his words before he speaks. “You need to back off Jay, Dad. The more pressure you put on him, the worse he gets. I know that but he’s _your_ fucking son – _you_ should know it, too.”

“You’re giving me parenting advice now?” Alvey pours the whiskey. He brings the glass to his lips but surveys Nate over the rim.

Nate hesitates, chews faster. There’s a change to Alvey’s tone - he’s pissed.

“You got any other tips for me, Nate? Like maybe I should tell my know-it-all sixteen year old that the only place his ass is going for the next two weeks is school and the gym?”

“Seriously?”

Alvey gulps the whiskey. “Do I look like I’m fucking joking?”

Nate raises his chin and glares defiantly. “This is bullshit.”

When Alvey slams the glass down, Nate tenses, when Alvey steps towards him and gets right in his face, Nate juts his chin out and prepares to be hit. But Alvey doesn’t lash out. Instead he clamps his hands either side of Nate’s head, fingers pressing hard against his temples, forcing Nate closer so their foreheads almost touch. “You’re my son and I love you,” he says and plants a kiss on the top of Nate’s head. “But you need to go to bed before I kick your fucking ass.”

***

It’s two am. and Nate can’t sleep. Alvey went to bed half an hour ago; Nate heard him stagger past his door. He lies on his bed, alternating between watching the shadows from the tree outside sway gently across his ceiling, and the glowing numbers of his alarm clock ticking steadily over.

He dresses in the dark, throwing on a pair of blue sweats and a t-shirt. Jamming his feet into his sneakers, he grabs his gym bag, crosses to the open window and climbs out the way he and Jay used to. Jumping lithely to the ground, he jogs across the garden, avoiding the sensors of the security light just in case Alvey is awake. He grabs his bike and opens the gate before riding off into the night.

It takes less than ten minutes to get to Jay’s. He goes in the back way, walks his bike up to the house and leans it against the wall. Despite what Alvey expected, it hasn’t been a late one. Mac and a girl are passed out on adjoining loungers, the kitchen light is on but the house is silent. The door to Jay’s bedroom is ajar but Nate still raps gently on the wood. “Jay, you here?”

When he gets no response, he inches the door open, the light from the kitchen spilling in. Jay’s on the bed on his back, spread eagled and naked as a fucking baby. A girl lies beside him, partially covered with the blanket. The room smells of booze and sweat and sex. Nate is about to withdraw when Jay opens his eyes and props himself up on his elbows.

“Nate, you ok?” he asks groggily. He switches on the lamp. “What time is it?”

“Just after two.”

Jay scrubs his hands over his face and shakes his head from side to side like a wet dog. Leaning over, he gives the girl a shake. “Trixie, would you excuse us please? My brother is here.” Still half asleep, the girl, Trixie, nods and drags herself up, ambling naked from the room. Nate steps back hastily to give her room to pass.

“Very nice, huh?” Jay says with a sleepy grin. “Trixie’s very accommodating, Nathaniel, should you feel so inclined…”

Nate smiles and shakes his head. “Maybe some other time.”

Jay pats the bed. “Come, talk to me.”

“Can you put some fucking clothes on first?” Nate says, closing the door. “And open a window? It stinks in here.”

“It stinks like sex, Nate, you can say it. It stinks of glorious, if somewhat inebriated, sex.”

“Nice.” Nate screws up his face and opens the window, then picks up Jay’s cologne from the bedside table and squirts some into the air.

He settles on the bed beside Jay, taking care not to sit in any wet patches. Jay has pulled on some pants and is sitting on the edge of the bed. There’s some coke on the table and Jay goes to snort it.

“Can you not?” Nate asks him. “Please?”

Jay considers this for a second and then nods. “I can not,” he says agreeably, swinging his legs up to lie beside Nate. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how pissed was the old man?”

Nate shrugs. “He thinks you’re fucking everything up. He’s worried about the fight.”

Jay says nothing.

“And he was mad about me drinking.”

Jay reaches over and grabs Nate’s chin, angling it to the lamplight until Nate pulls away. “How mad?” Jay asks suspiciously.

“He didn’t hit me. He grounded me.”

Jay rises up onto his elbows. “Strange. That’s something a _dad_ would do.” He says this without a trace of sarcasm. Alvey was a champion fighter, he can be a fucking amazing coach, but as a father he’s mostly been shit or absent.

“So on that basis, should we expect another visit from Alvey?”

“I waited until he was in bed.”

Jay flops back down and closes his eyes. “You know there’s room for you here, Nate. You could move back in.”

“I’m not sure Alvey would go for that.” There’s a loose thread on the blanket and Nate picks at it. “He’s doing better now; he’s still doing the therapy thing.”

“Well if that changes…if you ever need to get out of there. If he ever touches so much as one sweet hair on your head…”

“Get off,” Nate says, grinning and ducking away as Jay moves to ruffle his hair.

“I mean it,” Jay says seriously.

“I know.”

Jay yawns. “Well on that note, as much as I’ve enjoyed our chat, I need to pass out now.” He reaches over and snaps off the lamp. “Wake me up for gym, Nate. I’m relying on you.”

“Yeah.” In the darkness, Nate shuffles down the bed a few inches until his head is propped against the pillow. The house is quiet, apart from the hum of a mosquito outside the open window, and a faint rumbling noise which can only be Mac snoring on his makeshift bed.

“Jay?”

“Hmm?”

“You know, Alvey’s got a point. If you don’t fight, you don’t get paid,” he says gently. “If I ever need to get out of Alvey’s house again, I need somewhere to go. If you lose this place…”

Beside him in the darkness, Nate hears Jay sigh. “I hear ya, Nate,” he whispers. “I hear ya.”


End file.
